


White Nest

by Multidimensional_Wave



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Gen, Siblings, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 14:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multidimensional_Wave/pseuds/Multidimensional_Wave
Summary: Her brother was the best at everything except the most important things.





	White Nest

**Author's Note:**

> In order to celebrate the Archive of Our Own winning a Hugo Award, I decided to post my very first drabble in English, which was written on LJ almost 10 years ago. I'm so grateful to all the people working hard to bring us the joy of reading and writing transformative works, and I congratulate them on their well-deserved award!

“Vanya sent you _what_?” 

“The keys. And he invited us to dinner.” 

“To his apartment at Volkhonka?” 

“No, to our—I mean, his old house.” 

“And he sent you the keys.” 

“Yes, he did. So, are you going?” 

“I thought it was demolished.” 

“What?” 

“The house.” 

“Oh. Yes… Yes, it was. Natasha, are you-” 

“I’m going, Katya.”

The sky above the old Moscow suburb was a vast flowing of dark gray silk. The first snowflakes fell down lazily, slowly. Light and small, they floated past roofs and trees, portending a long snowfall. 

Natasha tugged up the furry sleeve cuffs of her black coat and pulled off her gloves. She glanced at Katya, who was squeezing the keys in her hand and staring ahead disbelievingly, transfixed by the sight of Ivan’s mansion where the siblings spent centuries together. It was rebuilt and modified many times, but now it seemed awfully shrunken. Only the main building remained; the rest were, indeed, demolished. The house had a completely new look: flavescent with white cornice, it produced mixed feelings of fake joyfulness and genuine demureness. 

The garden remained here, as well, and it looked even bigger than twenty years ago. Bushes and flower beds slept peacefully under the soft blanket of snow. Natasha felt a strange urge to smile – just a little, with the corners of her lips. 

_Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, my dearest brother’s garden? The Blizzard may chant it for you later, but its voice is hoarse and mirthless…_

Soon, Katya let them both inside, and Vanya—_ah; brother looks so handsome, even in this silly lavender-pink apron_—greeted his sisters. He hugged Katya first. She wrapped her arms up his back with a short laugh the flickering uncertainty of which did not escape Natasha. 

Finally, Vanya turned to her. She threw a disapproving look at his apron. “It doesn’t suit you.” She lifted up her expectant gaze to cross with his hesitant and slightly frightened look. He seemed to remember something urgent. 

“Wait, sister. I’ve got something for you,” mumbled Vanya before rushing off to the hall. 

_Something even better than your embrace?_

She realized she was pulling at the delicate buttons on the ribbed cowl neckline of her blue pullover. Katya glanced at her uneasily. 

“I found this in the southern passage near your room.” Vanya stopped in the doorway and smiled. “You were in a hurry, remember?” Something glistened in his hand. Natasha half-started towards him to take a better look at the thing her brother had brought, but this flicker of solid moonlight she abruptly recognized, and so she hesitated. It was a thin silver snake – an adder – coiled in two glimmering rings. The snake seemed almost alive. 

“This is my bracelet,” she breathed, feeling warmth on her cheeks. 

Without saying a word, he walked over to her and gently laid a hand on the top of her head. 

There was a soft white wall outside the window. It was moving. Natasha watched the snow falling down, and sometimes it felt like this white mass was completely still, as if the house itself was going up to the skies, carrying them away, higher and higher. It was very quiet in their lounge. They ate dinner made by Vanya — hot plov and blini, familiar food served in unfamiliar dishes. It was getting dark, and the three siblings were sitting on a big sofa in front of fireplace. Katya was knitting Vanya’s mittens, sighing contentedly between every row. It was Vanya’s work, actually, but she took it in her slightly callous hands and started forming new stitches almost unconsciously. To her left, Vanya didn’t say anything; he just smiled at her with rare warmth in his eyes. Natasha arched an eyebrow at him. After all, he let older sister finish it, even though he knits better than she. Probably better than anyone. 

Her brother was the best at everything except the most important things. 

Natasha leaned back and watched Vanya look into the fire for a while. His eyes were dark gray in the soft orange light. When she touched his sleeve with tentative fingers, he didn’t even flinch. She sighed a bit and waved a hand in front of his eyes. Her silver bracelet flashed, reflecting the flames; her brother blinked and looked at her. 

“Her name’s Uzhanka.” 

“The bracelet’s?” He slightly tilted his head. 

“No.” Natasha suppressed a smile and tugged at his sleeve. “My pet snake. She lives at my house in Minsk.” 

“I hope it’s not venomous?” 

“Of course not.” She pouted at him. “Uzhanka is a non-venomous adder. And adders always liked me. Don’t you remember?” 

“Ah,” Vanya chuckled, remembering. “I do. You used to bring them home and Katyusha scolded you-” 

“I didn’t,” laughed Katya from another side of the sofa. “I just told her it might scare our cat and her kittens. Too bad, Ms. Snake, the position of mouse hunter had been already taken.” 

“But Uzhanka is a better hunter!” Natasha clutched her brother’s wrist; her eyes widened. “Besides, she’s very good at milking the cows.” 

Vanya froze. “You… you still do that?” 

“I still let my snakes suck their milk, yes.” She looked straight into his eyes. “For a better yield.” 

Vanya’s face suddenly turned whiter than the snow outside the window. “A yield. I, um. I see.” 

“Belaruskaye malako,” she purred with a dead-serious expression on her face, “is very nutritious. You like my milk, don’t you? I’m planning to increase the dairy export, and--” 

“Such a heavy snowfall,” suddenly announced Katya. “Look at these huge piles! I can’t imagine what’s happening on Moscow roads now.” 

Vanya gave her a grateful look. “I bet the traffic is dead.” 

“Looks like we’re trapped here tonight,” concluded Natasha. 

Vanya stood up, eyes squinted to see the ultramarine shades that twilight cast on the snow. He walked to the window. “You both can stay if you want. I will sleep on the sofa.” 

Katya put down the unfinished mitten and joined him. After a moment of hesitation, she squeezed his hand gently. “Yes. I think it’s better to wait till it’s over.” 

Natasha blinked, stared at them, examined Katya’s neck and shoulders. She hasn’t seen her sister so relaxed in a long time. Just a few weeks ago there was only _election, election_ in Katya’s head, stressing her out, making her fingers and voice shake with anxiety every time they talked about politics. 

But now, all worries were covered with a big soft blanket that smelled like frost. It was easy. White. Reassuring. Natasha closed her eyes. _A meeting with my boss—with Father—at 9 in the morning._ What would he say tomorrow if she skipped it? 

The fire's quiet crackling flowed over her ears, making her thoughts drowsy and calm. 

She doesn’t care. 

She will stay here.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Find me on Twitter @cherubim_rock


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